A Funeral

Kathryn and Jean,

Yesterday I attended the funeral of the Father of one of Kathryn’s grammar school classmates and my long-time friend.  Two years younger than me, he died in his sleep.  His four children spoke before Mass started and his older daughter, Kathryn’s classmate, spoke first and acknowledged the love and dedication he had shown her and her siblings.

As I sat in the pews, I wondered if you would attend my funeral or my Dad’s funeral?  Even your Mother attended her Father’s funeral, although in my last conversation with your Mother she told me that she was glad her Father was dead.

We, both of you and me, had a number of friends in attendance.  All of the many who spoke with me asked about both of you, all hoped you were doing well and all hoped you would reconcile with me.  Me too.

Life is complicated.  Life and relationships are sometimes difficult to understand.  As you move deep into your thirties and forties, you find that your mind may be more accommodating.  I hope greater accommodation in your mind occurs before my Dad passes away.  If you can find that in your heart, your sense of guilt and your acknowledgment of the silliness of your silence will hopefully be less of an issue for you, if you reach out to your Grandfather before he passes.  Thankfully, he is very healthy and you have some time, not twenty years, but possibly 10.

I love you and miss you.  I pray for you each and every day.

Love,

Dad